Chapter 11 - THE FIRE ON TAYLOR STREET|
By the time we reached Taylor Street, the night sky was glowing orange.
Firefighters had surrounded Gianna's house.
Smoke poured from the storage shed behind the kitchen.
A fire engine blocked the narrow street, and neighbors stood in their pajamas watching helplessly.
Mrs. Alvarez was sitting on the curb with a blanket around her shoulders.
I hurried toward her.
"Are you all right?"
She nodded.
"I saw smoke coming over the fence."
"I called 911 right away."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"That poor woman."
"After everything she's been through."
Luca stood near the firefighters, speaking with the incident commander.
He looked toward the house that had sheltered him when he was a child.
The yellow kitchen curtains were visible through a window.
One was blackened by smoke.
The other had caught fire and fallen from the rod.
For a moment, he didn't move.
Then he turned toward Marco.
"Make sure everyone on this street is safe."
"And find out whether any neighboring homes have been damaged."
Marco nodded and began speaking with the officers at the scene.
I watched Luca reach for his phone.
He called Gianna.
She answered immediately.
"Sweetheart?"
"Auntie, I need you to stay at the mansion tonight."
There was a pause.
"Why?"
Luca looked toward the smoke.
"There's been a fire."
I could hear her frightened voice through the phone.
"My house?"
"The firefighters are here."
"Everyone is safe."
"What about my kitchen?"
Luca swallowed.
"They're doing everything they can."
Gianna began crying.
"My brother put those yellow curtains up himself."
"He said the house needed something cheerful."
Luca closed his eyes.
"I remember."
"He stood on a chair because he refused to buy a ladder."
Gianna laughed weakly through her tears.
"That stubborn man."
Then her voice broke again.
"Please save whatever you can."
Luca looked toward the house.
"I promise I'll do everything I can."
The firefighters worked for nearly an hour before bringing the blaze under control.
The storage shed was destroyed.
The rear kitchen wall had suffered significant damage.
But the main structure remained standing.
When the fire investigator allowed us to approach the property, I noticed something unusual.
The storage shed had been almost empty.
There were a few gardening tools, an old bicycle, and several cardboard boxes.
Nothing valuable.
Nothing worth stealing.
So why would someone set fire to it?
A firefighter told us investigators had found circumstances suggesting the blaze might have been deliberately started.
They were collecting samples and checking nearby security cameras.
Luca listened without interrupting.
Then he asked a question that surprised everyone.
"What do you need from me?"
The investigator looked at him.
"Any recent threats against the property would be relevant."
Luca immediately called Evelyn.
Within minutes, she was arranging to provide the eviction documents, threatening messages, and details of the Bellini property dispute.
I watched Luca carefully.
A year earlier, I believed he would have handled something like this with threats of his own.
He had people who could frighten almost anyone in Chicago.
But tonight, he was calling attorneys and cooperating with investigators.
Perhaps Gianna's words had finally reached him.
Power and safety aren't the same thing.
When we were allowed inside, the smell nearly broke my heart.
The kitchen smelled of smoke and wet wood.
Water covered the floor.
The old table was scorched along one side.
Gianna's collection of porcelain cups had fallen from an open shelf.
Luca walked toward the little wooden cabinet where his childhood photographs had been displayed.
Most of the pictures were damaged.
But one survived.
It showed him at six years old, standing between his parents while Gianna knelt beside him.
She was wearing the same blue dress.
Luca stared at the photograph.
Then he gently lifted it from the shelf.
I stood beside him.
"She'll be happy you saved that."
He shook his head.
"I spent more money on wedding flowers than this house probably needs for repairs."
"And I never asked whether she needed anything."
"She never wanted to ask you," I replied.
"That doesn't mean she didn't need help."
He looked at me.
"Why didn't I see it?"
I hesitated.
"Because sometimes people are so busy protecting their reputation that they forget to protect their relationships."
He lowered his eyes.
"Like Vanessa."
I looked toward the damaged kitchen.
"Like anyone who mistakes appearing powerful for being good."
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he said something I'd never expected.
"Claire, I owe you an apology too."
I looked at him.
"For what?"
"For letting Vanessa treat the staff as though you were invisible."
"I noticed more than I wanted to admit."
I swallowed.
"Then why didn't you stop it?"
He stared at the photograph.
"Because it was easier to believe she was just difficult."
"And because I was used to people being afraid to disagree with me."
His voice was rough.
"That is not an excuse."
I looked away.
He continued.
"I can't undo those years."
"But I can stop pretending I didn't see."
Before I could answer, Evelyn called.
Luca put the phone on speaker.
"There's something you need to know," she said.
"I checked the city records after Marco reported the fire."
Luca frowned.
"What records?"
"An emergency demolition request was submitted for Gianna's property."
My blood ran cold.
"When?" Luca asked.
"Earlier this evening."
"Before the fire started."
Luca stared at the damaged kitchen wall.
"Who submitted it?"
"Bellini Renewal Group."
Evelyn paused.
"The application claims the property was already unsafe and needed immediate clearance."
I felt nauseated.
They hadn't merely planned to take Gianna's house.
Someone had prepared the paperwork to destroy it.
Evelyn continued.
"There's another problem."
"The application includes a sworn statement claiming a household employee witnessed Gianna agree to leave."
Luca's jaw tightened.
"Which employee?"
There was a terrible silence.
Then Evelyn answered.
"Claire Bennett."
I stopped breathing.
My name had been used to support an eviction.
May you like
The same woman who had tried to frame me for stealing diamonds had now made me part of a property fraud.
And if I couldn't prove the statement was forged, I might be blamed for helping destroy the home of the woman I'd been trying to protect.
